Adam Oster's Blog, page 82

How Children Make Me Appear more Social

I’ve found life with children an ever increasingly source of learning things about the human condition.  My children, of course, constantly show me how the brain at it’s most simple levels can absorb information and make it something new, as well as, you know, just showing me how little ones actually develop into new people.

But. . . what I’ve really begun finding even more interesting, is what I’ve learned about other people due to having children constantly accompanying me.  The old adage regarding using children as a way to pick up chicks is one of the first things that I’ve found to be true in this new life as a father.

But it comes down to something even more simple than that.  Children appear to be somewhat of a social lubricant, similar, in many ways, to alcohol, considering how people’s speech patterns begin to change drastically in the presence of these little humans.  But even more than that. . . when I walk around without my children nearby, I find it very difficult to lock eyes with someone in order to exchange simple pleasantries.  I know, it’s kinda silly. . . but I feel really odd walking past someone pretending that they aren’t there.  Yet, this seems to be the way of Americans today.  We try our hardest to avoid any form of interactions with strangers, mostly because we don’t really know how they are going to respond.  I know that I face similar issues within myself.  Issues that I try to battle in an attempt to keep my children from learning such anti-social behavior.

However, when my children are around, that all changes quickly.  People seem to have no shame in staring at my children as they go about doing their adorable things.  They will giggle and comment unabashedly, making sure that I know that my kids are cute.  I can’t blame these people, my kids are darned cute.

But it seems so weird to me that this is the case with our society today.  Why is it that the presence of children causes us to open up our feelings about our current situation?  We may see someone we find cute who just so happens to be an adult, and we would more than likely avert our eyes in the situation could become aware that we are looking.  The majority of people would keep their feelings silent about such a thing.  Not so with kids though. . . we’ll openly insist our friends check out the funny things the kid near us is doing, not caring who sees us reacting.

But when it’s an actual adult. . . we act much more like my children do when a stranger says “Hi!”.  If our mom’s legs were still available, I’m sure we’d all still hide behind them in an attempt to avoid the uncomfortable situation of conversing with someone new.

So, I guess what that really means is. .  .we’re not all that different from children ourselves in our social behaviors. . . except, of course, if there’s a bunch of adults congregating in an area, all of whom we don’t know, we’re much less likely to jump in the middle of them and ask if they  want to be friends. . . unless we’ve got a few drinks in us, that is.

Also. . . I love the picture for this post.  It’s barely related to the content, but I didn’t think I had highlighted it yet, and felt it was about time.

 

Have a good one!

Read my Books as I Write Them!

After years of deliberation on whether or not I would ever allow my stuff to be seen in the world before it was something I considered perfect, I finally put up a later draft of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO onto a site last year.  The main use I found in the site was the ability to network with other authors and readers, as well as get some incredibly useful insight into my work in progress.

Today, I announce the opportunity to read even the most roughest of drafts of my work, as I’m writing them, on that same site.  My two current works in progress are popping up on there as we speak, and I’ll be adding more as I have more to add.  Right now, not only can you read the first three chapters of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO, but you can also read the first 5 chapters of THE AGORA FILES (more to come very very soon) as well as the first 7 chapters of THE RISE OF THE FAT MOGUL.

Those of you who have been keeping track are aware that THE AGORA FILES is all but completed, needing some desperate love to make the book a more cohesive story, as well as to fill in some unintentional story gaps.  FAT MOGUL, however, is still being written.  If you so choose as to read this book as I lay it out, you’ll have the opportunity to see how little planning I really do as I go into this, and probably a bit of how I lose track of things as I continue. . . in other words, you can see how truly atrocious my first drafts can be.

So, if you’re the type who likes to get in early on things, or the type who loves to find typos, grammatical errors, or just plain want to point out things you don’t like, you should hop over to my page on authonomy and check it out.  You shouldn’t have to register to read, but if you wish to comment on the book there, you will.  However, I’ll accept all criticisms through any avenue you wish, whether it be e-mail, facebook, twitter, text message, phone call, or spray painted into my lawn.

I’ll be updating on Facebook and Twitter as new chapters go up, which should hopefully be quite regularly.

Hope you all enjoy this glimpse into the brain of writing.

 

Have a good one!

Happy. . . without bacon?!?

The Happiest Man in America (as of March 2011)

This one’s a little old (over 2 years to be slightly precise), but I’ve been sitting on it for a while, intending to comment on how cool, and interesting, it really is.

Gallup, you know, that group responsible for somewhere around every poll ever conducted, spent 3 years calling random people across the country and asked them a whole bunch of questions that basically amounted to “How happy are you?”

Based on all of the information they compiled, they were able to develop a rather complete profile of a person whom would be, statistically speaking, the happiest man in the nation.  As you can see from the linked article, they had this down to his age, area of residence, and even religion.

And. . . as it would so happen, this person actually existed!

A call to the man resulted in a rather expected conversation in which he basically said “Yeah, I’m pretty happy, I guess” (or something like that).

But the thing here is that based purely on collected data over a period of time, Gallup was basically able to objectify happiness.  Looking at recent information exposed regarding larger retail chains, it would appear that there are many things that can be objectified that we would normally consider outside of the realm of such determinations.  Companies like Target have hired teams of experts to review how best to market to people using purchases people make in order to determine what other sorts of things these folks may be interested in purchasing as well.  They’ve gone so far as to use common purchases made by expectant mothers to be able to determine that they are pregnant before the rest of the world knows and market heavily to them regarding all of their upcoming needs.  Things like pre-natal vitamins, maternity clothing, and even stuffed animals can cause companies like Target to realize that you’re about to welcome a child into the world, and therefore cause you to begin receiving non-stop offers to ensure you continue to purchase items from their store.

But here’s the thing. . . our behavior as a people is now so darned typical that retail establishments can actually figure out that we’re pregnant before we even tell our families.  We have all merely become a group of statistics that follow a basic path depending on what circumstances we have found ourselves in.

In fact, many folks are using this type of information to state that we, as humans, have absolutely no free will and are, in actuality merely operating in a sort of instinctual way to everything that occurs around us.

As a writer, as well as an observer of man, I find this to be a fairly sad state of affairs.  I’m sure that if you were to dig deep enough into the details, you could probably come up with basic reasons to believe that people will react in very specific ways given specific circumstances. . . but even if that were true, it seems to me that there’s much more excitement to be had around all of it.  The idea of the Butterfly Effect, where something as small as the flap of the wings of a butterfly can cause drastic weather changes on the entire other side of the globe is something that I think can’t be ignored.  Unless we were to collect all of the data for everything possible, meaning, unless we have enough data to predict not only the actions of every person on the globe, all the weather to come for forever, all the movements of animals, blah blah blah, there’s still a great deal of possibility for the unexpected.

So, although Target may know that Mrs. Doe is pregnant, they may not know that she was hit by a car and miscarried.  That means that the tons of mailers they send her for offers on diapers may have an entirely different effect on her.  Each mailer could remind her of the lost child and make it more difficult for her to want to return.

The unexpected is where the fun of life exists.  It’s where the risks exists.  And it’s where the writer needs to live (at least mentally).  When creating worlds, the writer needs to work within the realms of things that wouldn’t be predictable.  We don’t want the predictable (as readers) we want to be surprised and entertained. . . things that don’t happen if we know what’s to come.

So, although Alvin may have ended up being the happiest man in America per the Gallup poll. . . what about what may have happened the following day?

I love reading about this type of stuff, but I think it’s too easy to take these items in a rather defeatist way.  I mean, based on Gallup’s reporting, it would be pretty darn difficult for me to be the happiest man in America.  Heck, out of all of the items they list as things that make for the happy man, I only have two to my name.  But I don’t take that to mean that happiness it outside of my grasp.  In fact, most days I consider myself a relatively happy guy.

The world is constantly trying to bring us down to being nothing more than a number (not quite 1984-style, but who knows).  I refuse to be a number.  I am me, no matter what Target or Gallup thinks being me boils down to.

Anyways. . .that’s my random rant for the day.  Have a good one!

Raising Nerdlingers

NERD: (noun) - an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with a nonsocial hobby or           pursuit. (from dictionary.com)

My wife often makes comments (mostly positive ones) regarding how we are in the midst of raising the most nerdy of children possible, usually after my children do something quite fantastic, like getting excited over me finding a rupee while playing the original Legend of Zelda, and yelling out “RUPEE!” over and over again each time.

I have to admit responsibility over their excitement over things that would have, when I was a child, placed them into the unpopular crowd, labeled with such monikers as nerd, geek, or whatever. However. . . I won’t accept sole responsibility, as my wife definitely shares her fair share of excitement over similar things.  But the most recent comment regarding our children’s nerdiness got me thinking.

The above definition for a nerd refers to the non-social aspects of nerdiness. . . being interested in something that cuts you off from the general public.  Now, in a sense this may be somewhat accurate, at least historically speaking, as nerds were generally outcasts of sorts, forced to live outside of the popular crowd. . . but the definition here states that the hobby itself is non-social.  Considering how many nerdy things revolve around being social, such as table top games, pen and paper games, and. . . well, games in general, since that’s a big recurring item in nerd culture, I don’t see how one can consider the hobbies themselves non-social.  The hobbies (once again, historically speaking) may have caused the nerds to be shunned by the many, but I don’t think that the hobbies themselves kept them separate.  Even things such as book reading, superheroes, movies, or whatever are generally exciting enough for the nerds to seek out others who are as interested in the same things just so they can converse at length about the mechanisms involved in propelling a interstellar star shp.

Heck, having nieces and nephews who are currently in the proper nerd age, and excited about things that would typically be considered nerdy, they spend all their time talking about their obsessions to whomever they can. . . not merely content to hide in a corner and enjoy their nerdiness alone, they want to share it with everyone.

Nerdiness is, in fact, not about the hobby at all, but about passion.  A pure excitement or love of whatever the hell it is you love and being perfectly confident in yourself to show that love outwardly, and proudly.  Nerdiness is passionately loving something so much that you want the world to know of your love for that thing.  Of course, for it to be truly nerdy, it must fall outside of conventionally “cool” things. . . seeing as for some reason sports lovers do not get considered nerdy, although memorizing the ERA for every single pitcher in the American League seems mighty darn nerdy to me.

And this is where any true definition of nerdiness begins to get a bit hazy. . . When I was a kid, comic books and star wars and star trek were considered quite nerdy, as well as computers and video games and, well, anything else that I was interested in at the time.  Today, these are all giant money makers.  Comic books are the source for almost every recent box office breaker of recent history, star wars and star trek both have ever-growing franchises that the public at large can’t seem to get enough of, and computers/video games. . . well, check a pocket, you’ve probably got both on hand in the same device at all times.

These are the things that my wife is talking about when she talks about our kids being nerdy, but these are also the things that happen to be the most popular items out there right now.

Heck, even Uncle Si knows about Skynet!

In other words, these things that I have been teaching my children about, these things that were the same things I was deeply interested in as a child (not to mention as an adult) are the things that appear to be pretty darn far from nerdy nowadays.

But here’s the thing about being a nerd. . . it’s about finding something you love and sticking by it no matter what, even if it does a Phantom Menace on you.  Whether you love comic books, Star Wars, the Green Bay Packers, or a great hamburger, you are defining yourself through your interests.  And nerds stick with what they love and will defend it to the very end.  That’s a trait I think we could afford to see more of today.

Have a good one!

Forever Young (or how July is the mushiest of months)

“May your hands always be busy

May your feet always be swift

May you have a strong foundation

When the winds of changes shift

May your heart always be joyful

And may your song always be sung

May you stay forever young

Forever young, forever young

May you stay forever young.”

-Bob Dylan

 

So, I’d say that you must all be getting tired of me having so many excuses to write mushy lovey-dovey emotional posts on here, but based on the site stats for those days, I guess I’d be wrong.

And although I’d love to go back to my much more regular (lower) site traffic, I feel as though I can’t allow the milestone that occurred yesterday to go by uncommented on.

Yesterday marked yet another day in my life that can only be seen as another day of rebirth, the anniversary of my wedding day.  Six years ago yesterday I watched my gorgeous wife walk down the aisle, eyes welling up with tears (hopefully of joy) as her father handed her off to me in order for us to start our official life together.  Sure, we had been in a relationship for almost 4 years at this point, but now it was to be put down on paper that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

As part of our preparations for the event, we chose a song that we had hoped to be sung at the ceremony (although, due to some rules was, in actuality, sung at the reception following the ceremony) which we felt would perfectly mark how we hoped to spend our lives together, Forever Young by Bob Dylan, a verse of which you’ll find at the start of this post.  Although we were moving forward with our adult lives, we both had hoped that we would be able to look forward on our lives with childlike enthusiasm, ready to live every moment as best as we can.

Now, I’m not going to try to pretend that we haven’t had any hard times. . . we’ve definitely been put through the “for better or worse” wringer, but we had no doubt going in that those times would occur.  In fact, we were tested early on with the loss of a child early on in our first pregnancy, the loss happening to occur on our first anniversary.  Of course, the following year, we welcomed our daughter into the world a mere three days before our second anniversary.  The sting of the first loss still nipped (nips, truthfully) at our heels, but the joy Olivia immediately brought into our lives helped numb the pain.

But with the hard times have come more than our fill of good.  Within our first year of marriage, we traveled the continent, getting to visit Disney World for our official honeymoon, traveling the east coast (including visits to my home of South Carolina as well as the state of New York) for an unofficial honeymoon, and spending two weeks traveling across Germany for yet another unofficial honeymoon.  We’ve welcomed two children into this world who provide a constant source of joy (and stress. . . if we’re being honest), we’ve had many successes in our occupational lives, and overall have led a life much easier than I would have expected when we stated our vows six years ago.

But throughout all of that, I’ve always found myself coming back to the words of the song that we saw as our anthem back on that day, the song who’s simple message carries a much stronger vibe.  The song itself doesn’t exactly convey a message of living a carefree live, it talks of one of struggles, of hard work, and of dedication.  The final verse, as I quoted above, I believe highlights this the best.  ”May your hands always be busy”, “May you have a strong foundation”.  These aren’t exactly things one would attribute to youth.  These are messages that one would more attribute to coming of age, to growing old.  They’re blessings that one would give to someone for their ongoing life to ensure that they live a fulfilling one, as well as one that keeps them on the path they wish to keep.

But underlying that blessing is yet another blessing.  A blessing that states that while you continue through life, that your soul stays young, that you continue to look at life from a more youthful perspective, or, as is stated later in that same verse “May your heart be always joyful and may your song always be sung”.

This is the ideal I continue to strive for in my married life, and in my life as a father.  There are always things to stress about, always looming issues that cause us to feel as though we will never be able to come out from under them. . . but with that, a sense of childlike optimism is required, a sense that although things are hard, there must be a day when they will get better. . . you know, the good side of “for better or worse.”  And, from my relatively short experience, the better does come along.

So, in combination with wishing my beautiful bride, once again, a Happy Anniversary! I also wish her the same thing I always wish for us, that we are able to stay forever young.

I hope you all have a good one!

Year 4 – Complete!

Four years ago today, I was exhausted: physically, mentally, and probably a bit spiritually.  Starting around 6pm the night prior, my hard as nails wife began the process of being put into labor for my adorable daughter.  Approximately 18 hours later, I watched a child enter this world.  In an amusing moment of shortly mistaking some swollen girly parts for boy parts, my newborn daughter briefly held a rather masculine name. . .

These past 4 years have been pretty darn amazing.  Going into fatherhood, I was excited, but scared.  I still worry about being the one who emotionally scars my children, or falls short of their expectations, or, you know, any number of things I could possibly do wrong in their eyes. I’ve learned to be tough when necessary, even if I’m doing so while trying to fight back a smile at whatever amusing thing they’ve done this time that just so happens to not be considered appropriate behavior.

It’s not just my baby girl’s 4th birthday, but my own 4th birthday because 4 years ago today I was completely changed, born into a new role in my life. . . namely, FATHER.

It’s such a weird thing to think about.  Every once in a while I think of my life before fatherhood and have a hard time imagining such a different lifestyle.  Sure, I enjoyed it, and perhaps there are times in which I had the free time that used to be available to me . . .but I wouldn’t trade it.

Another thing happened approximately four years ago as well.  Having my own progeny in this world caused me to want to do something that I could be proud of to them.  Sure, there’s all the little things that people can consider pride in themselves for, but I needed more. So, once I finally started getting used to the complete lack of sleep involved in being a father, I began truly writing my first novel.  So, I’m basically saying you can blame her for me trying to convince all of you that you should read the stories I put together.

Anyways, this is a long winded way of saying that as I sit at my desk today, I find myself thinking back to the exhausting day of watching my wife work hard to bring my daughter into this world and knowing that although she hasn’t allowed either of us to stop since, she truly has been worth it.

Time to go open some presents!

Independence!

Those of us here in the States recently celebrated a bit of a national milestone, the date in which we declared our independence.  Although I spent a good portion of the weekend hiding in the Northwoods chasing after children and avoiding mosquitoes, I also found a great deal of time available for sitting down a doing some (long-awaited) reading.

How fitting, then, was it that I found myself reading some literature produced by an independent author, someone who has declared themselves free of the “tyranny” of an oppressive publishing world and decided to strike out on their own, to pioneer, so to speak, this new frontier the artistic world has found itself in.

As I read this book, which just so happened to be an example of some beautifully written independent fiction called Limerence by my pal Claire Riley (who also just so happened to stop by the site and give her thoughts on Writer’s Block not so long ago), I found myself thinking of my own declaration of independence, albeit a rather quiet one.  For years I struggled to gain the attention of the publishing industry, receiving very little response from anyone.  I was not feeling oppressed by an tyrannical government as the revolutionaries felt back in 1772.  Instead, I felt lost in a crowd of people not seeking art, but seeking the next big thing, people looking for something similar enough to recent big successes as to make their work in selling it for big dollars that much easier.

Like the founding fathers, I decided to take the route that would inevitably much more difficult than to be backed by some large publishing company and strike out on my own on a path that would be much more filled with a lack of recognition, but much more personally satisfying.  In short, I made the decision to write for myself (and my readers) instead of writing to match some big book of rules on what will make the most money.

Will it pay off?  Probably not.  But what it does is allow me the opportunity to focus more on my writing than on trying to appease the publishing gods. It forces me to interact more with the actual readers in an attempt to garner their interest instead of hiding in a corner hoping a happy e-mail will come my way.  What my independence does is allows me to write for me and not for some large faceless corporation.  The similarities to the colonists who felt their work was going unnoticed and unrecognized may be thin, but they weren’t lost on me.

Too often today do artists focus on the need to be found, to be rewarded for their artistic talents.  I still find myself wishing I could be in that place.  However, artists today have found themselves in an amazing position that they’ve never had in the history of mankind.  They can create and put their stuff out there for little to no cost to themselves and allow the world to find them.  We now have the opportunity to focus on creation instead of the business aspect.

I struggle often with embracing this power, wishing that I could find some sugar-daddy of a publisher to take me under their wing and protect me from the troubles of finding an audience.

Perhaps someday they will. . . and then I’ll have to decide whether or not I wish to eat my words and succumb to their deep pockets.  For now, I feel proud to know that I’m a part of something much bigger than myself, part of a group of people who will not allow themselves to be counted out merely because their work does not fit some magic formula.  And I will continue to pioneer this new free world as the rest of my brethren, feeling strong in knowing that I have the freedom to create whatever I wish, and to hope that my audience feels rewarded by that freedom.

So, on this Fourth of July weekend, I found myself remembering why I should feel lucky as an independent artist. . . something I was in dire need of remembering.

Hope you all had a fun and safe weekend, whether here or abroad.

Is There No Such Thing as Bad Publicity?

Welp, it finally happened.  I finally received my first official bad review (not on the novel, but on the short story Dominion of Evil).  It was bound to occur and, honestly, I’m surprised it has taken quite so long to happen. . . granted, not too many of my readers have actually put a review out on the world yet (as far as I’ve found anyways), so perhaps I’ve just been luckily ignorant.

Anyways. . . waking up to such a review definitely stung, I won’t lie.  However, I take a bit of pride in the review as well.  It is my first official red badge, and. . . well, all of his negatives were basically about the entire point of the short story.

But I’m not going to take up any time trying to defend my book.  The author of this review is allowed their opinion, and I have definitely heard it.  I am happy to know that he appreciated the font of the ebook, since that seems to be a trending comment in his reviews

All in all, I figured I should highlight a bit of what the world is saying about Buddy and his adventures.  If you’re looking for something a bit more positive, here’s a couple of other reviews I’ve received.  Here and here

 

On a side note, sales of the short story have spiked since the posting of this negative review. . . perhaps it’s due to his Reading Rainbow-esque ending . . . “. . . but don’t take my word for it. . .”

Have a good one!

To Become a Winner You Must Compete!

I apologize for the blurriness. . . camera phones and large groups of people + my shakey hands don’t mix.

This past weekend both of the main females in my life ran in the RCU Charity Classic here in downtown Eau Claire, WI.  My wife, the one who has only recently begun running on a regular basis, ran the 2 mile race.  My daughter, the one who has never actually run and regularly complains halfway through Target of her legs tiring, ran the quarter mile.

Now, in the whole scheme of things, neither one of them were anywhere near the front of the race at any point during their runs.  But, that’s completely irrelevant.  My wife shaved over 3 minutes off her standard for a two mile run, which she credits to her competitive nature; and my daughter actually completed the race and wasn’t dead last. She managed this even after a fall, after stopping several times along the way to give the spectators high fives, and running over to give my wife a hug right before the finish line.

Both were, in my mind (as well, I hope as in their’s) winners, without a doubt.  My daughter was so completely proud of her medal (received, of course, for participation) that she wore it for the rest of the day, and frequently wants to put it on as we are about to leave the house.

Frequently in my life I’ve referred to my situation in terms of either winning or losing.  When things are going well, I like to exclaim how I’m winning at life.  When I have yet another failure, I hang my head in the shame of losing.  It’s an active thought process I go through, considering successes and failures as either winning or losing.  It’s a competition I have with myself, keeping myself pushing forward by keeping a form of score on how I’m doing.  (note: I don’t actually keep score, as I have a feeling the numbers may be a tad depressing)

Many times these losses (or failures) have gone so far as to cause me to want to give up.  Whether it’s one of my creative pursuits, employment activities, or even parenting; I manage to find myself in a place where I think it would just be easier to stop competing and just allow things to run their course.  And, to be honest, in many ways I do allow things to do exactly that.  There are many pieces of the puzzle that I just don’t find worthy of my time, when there are so many others that I’d rather try my hardest at and hopefully succeed.

Writing is a perfect example of this discussion.  Over the years I’ve attempted many different forms of writing, screenplays, stageplays, music, poetry, and, of course, novels.  Not until I finally completed the final version of THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO did I ever end up with something I felt truly proud to have created.  Each of those situations felt like a loss.  After stepping back for a bit, I’d see the little wins that did occur within each failure.  In producing the screenplays into movies, I was able to easily see my pacing issues as well as my issues with completing a story line and resolving plot lines.  In my poetry and music, I saw that I had a predilection towards writing stories, instead of expressing emotions.  In my stageplays I found my abilities to set a scene.  Each of these different overall failures added to the overall ability to create my art.

THE LEGEND OF BUDDY HERO is yet another example of this sort of situation.  Now, I do consider it to be a success (although I have a hard time considering it a win until it receives a tad more of a following), but there were some failures in there that I found which directed me in how to move forward in the next book I wrote.  In fact, THE AGORA FILES became a wholly different style of book, focusing first on action and filling in the details later, as opposed to BUDDY, which was much more focused on character development than the action.  I believe both styles fit the stories being told, but I think THE AGORA FILES is, overall, a much more palatable book for the standard audience.

Of course, this is a lot of rehashing of things I’ve said many times in the past.  However, watching my wife and daughter compete in something that they knew they couldn’t win brought this all back to the forefront.  They may have had little chance of winning by running, but they had absolutely no chance of winning by not.  And in their participation, they both did find themselves as winners, no matter what anyone else may have thought.

I’m proud of my runners, and I hope I can keep competing as strongly as they did this past weekend, knowing that there is something waiting for me at the finish line.

Congrats girls!

Have a good one!

The Art of Write

Everytime I begin a new writing project, I find myself going through the same emotions.  The first 10,000 words or so are painful to release.  I sit in front of my keyboard trying to figure out how I can fit all of the ideas I have together into something resembling a cohesive story.  I’m not very good at planning out a book before I begin writing.  I’m what other writers call a pantser, referring to writing “by the seat of my pants”.  I generally come up with a basic synopsis of what the overwhelming story will do, not really having a clue of how I’m going to get about the different plot points.  It’s basically a hit list of big ideas I have for the story.

After that I begin developing characters.  I’m actually pretty darn thorough with character creation.  I create a multitude of characters that I believe will serve of some use, give them a fairly elaborate backstory (much of which never actually makes it onto the written page) and come up with some random tidbits about them, depending on how I feel.  These tidbits can range from favorite colors, to high school attended, to what they think about while watching television.  I then generally go a bit further and develop the different factions involved in the story.  So, for instance, for The Legend of Buddy Hero I created a development profile for The Fat Mogul’s Meta Mob (which didn’t get used too much in that story), the shady government agency, and even Sun City itself (the location the events took place).

It then becomes something of a jigsaw puzzle.  I have all the pieces, but I have to work to determine how they all fit together.

That’s where the truly interesting parts of writing come into play.  These development pieces really just serve as inspiration fodder.  It’s really easy to come up with random items regarding a person or place, especially when you know they aren’t going to be used in any official capacity (as written).  But then there’s a basic foundation to work with.  Knowing the layout of Sun City helped me determine where I wanted things to go.  Knowing that Buddy Jackson was the burnout he is and that he had a sister which was his only real support system made opening the story up quite easily.

Many things in these development pages get tossed out as I go along.  There were four different characters that I had developed in the planning phase that will never see the light of day, as they were determined to be useless, although pieces of them may end up appearing in other characters as time goes on.

I’d like to consider myself a fairly organized pantser, even if I have no real clue how the story is going to end up (even if I had plans written into my simple synopsis).  But that’s the fun part.  With all of these jigsaw pieces developed, I find that the story somewhat works itself through.  Having fully defined characters means that more often than not, I realize as I’m writing that the story has to go a different direction than I had planned as I started on that piece, because the characters wouldn’t act the way I had intended them to.

And then there’s something more. . . writing this way is very much an act of writing by feel, feeling things out and getting a hunch about how things should move forward.  This came to fruition quite strongly just a few days ago as I was writing pages for THE RISE OF THE FAT MOGUL.  I reached a point in the story where I knew exactly what was coming next, the characters were moving the story quite organically, but something didn’t quite feel right.  I had a form of writer’s block in that although I knew what events followed exactly after the ones I had just written, it didn’t seem right to go straight into that.  It felt as though some form of foreshadowing needed to be placed in there, even if it had nothing to do with the pages surrounding it.

After sitting in front of my computer for around an hour, just brainstorming all of the possible options on what could fit in this little interlude I felt was necessary, something hit me, something that I should have been aware of all along, something that was completely necessary for the story proper, but had never planned on. . . and, most importantly, something that feeds directly from the previous book.

This is why I love writing.  It’s troubleshooting at its finest.  And when things begin to fit together (you know, without forcing the wrong pieces into the wrong spot), the world starts to get a little brighter, and I feel excited for what I’m doing once again.

With that being said, I’ve passed the 10,000 word mark of THE RISE OF THE FAT MOGUL and am getting into some very exciting stuff.  In fact, two pieces of the puzzle that I had no clue on how to fit in organically came together quite easily, and I’m excited to start writing them.

Speaking of which. . . have a good one!